Mosaic
by Neemers
Summary: When the Bats slow down to think about their family, what do they think about?
1. Dick

Mosaic  
  
By Neemers  
  
Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine.  
  
Dick was back in Gotham, and had settled down for a long talk with one of his best confidants, a rival to even Alfred.  
  
"You know, I always thought that all those "life is..." statements were always so stupid, but now I find myself using one inside my own head. The batclan is a mosaic. Outsiders seem to get it a little bit. They see how we work together off of each other's strengths and feel our hardness and sharp edges. But that's not the end of it.  
  
"When people first made mosiacs, it wasn't becuase the clay was made for that. It was because the pot was broken and couldn't go back. That's us. Broken. Bruce and me when we lost our parents, JP by the System...the others are more subtle.  
  
"Looking back, I wonder if that's part of the reason Bruce tried to get rid of Babs as Batgirl. Because she was whole and he didn't want to see her broken. You remember her like that, don't you? You should, after seeing her first flight. And then those bullets...  
  
"For Cass and Tim it was parent troubles, at least partly. Tim's family came back, but I think he's still more confident of the family that took him in when it had no obligation to him.  
  
"Helena and Steph...seem to be fighting out against the system they were raised under. Perhaps for them, it's redemption. Sins of the fathers and all that. I don't really know them well enough to say for sure.  
  
"Alfred has a family that he bleeds for. With Alfred I don't know what happened to break him. Ocasoinally that gentleman's gentleman facade slips, and I see the pain beneath. I don't know if that came before or after the rising of the Bat.  
  
"Harold was broken by the Penguin, but he has a home now. I'd like to think that he's healing.  
  
"That's us: a mosaic. All shattered beyond any hope of returning to what we are, but together we are whole. And the glue that binds us? I don't know. I think it's a combination: trust, loyalty, determination, but most of all that L word that Bruce will never say.  
  
"Thanks for listening to me ramble on. You're always so good at that. It feels good to get it all out."  
  
Dick swung off into the night, while behind him the gargoyle where the first Batgirl flew for the first time continued its silent vigilance of the city. 


	2. Bruce

Batman swung down next to one of Dick's favorite confidants. He refused to talk to the beast, but it was a good place to think. Close enough to his city to notice any problems, yet far enough that he could sit still and not be seen by anyone who happened to look up. Yesterday, during one of their few open moments, Dick had told Bruce how he thought of their clan as a mosaic. It was an incredibly accurate analogy.  
  
Batman was once more frustrated with his JLA teammates. He'd  
  
overheard Kyle complaining about how Batman's pride kept everyone out of Gotham. Didn't Kyle understand that Batman's pride was the slightest of the reasons for what he did?  
  
All they ever saw was the sharp edges of the mosaic. They didn't see the whole that had been assembled, nor did they understand what it took to make the whole. The clan was a reflection of Gotham. Just as they were a mosaic, so was Gotham.  
  
He didn't care for his pride nearly as much as his frien- teammates. Why had he been thinking THAT? It's not as if they wanted him for anything more than an advisor at the best of times. He was amazed that they didn't see the truth. Kal seemed to understand, at least partially, and Bruce considered him a friend and suspected the feeling was mutual at times.  
  
The paranoia and driven state were not an attempt to shut others  
  
out, but an attempt to do all he could to keep from losing anyone else. But back to where he began, the Mosaic.  
  
In ancient times, people did not make or buy pottery to turn into mosaics. One the pot was broken, then it was deemed fit for use in a mosaic. His - teammates were whole. They were not a part of Gotham. Gotham was a cruel, cold mistress who would sink her talons deep into a man and never let him go. Dick had managed to flee to her younger sister, but the tale was the same. They were free, and she would not watch her do to them what she had done to him. He would not watch her break them and put them in the same chains he wore. Physically, he was free, but he knew he could never leave her.  
  
So he was the Grim Avenger, the Dark Knight. He was the man that  
  
everyone thought cared for none because all they saw was an  
  
emotionless facade. But that wasn't it at all. He stayed in the  
  
shadows, watching for anything - anyone that would drag them down with him. He would not let any deny them their freedom.  
  
Perhaps Roy was more right then he would ever know when he called Bruce Daddybat. Of course, every time Roy said it within earshot of Bruce, or at least when someone could conceivably figure out that he was within earshot, Bruce gave him The Glare. Deep down, however, Bruce had always enjoyed the moniker, and still did. Daddy-bat not only to Dick and his clan and Gotham, but Daddy-bat to the Justice League as well. He would do all he could to make sure that none of them were hurt again. He was shattered, but he would weave the shattered into a new whole and keep the whole from being shattered. Why couldn't they see that this was what it was all about?  
  
He'd let Dick talk him into letting someone who was whole into his life once. Now she was stuck in a wheelchair. He wouldn't see that happen again. That was why he had to get Dinah out of Gotham. Now.  
  
Secondarily, League interference often put months of detective work at risk, not to mention lives within and without the masked life. Nearly every time he had to scramble to save the sting, prevent the tip-off, save his skin, save their skin...the list went on and on. When they came, they didn't understand that Gotham had different rules, and put everyone at risk.  
  
He was a predator, but in this dog-eat-dog city the only way to  
  
survive was to be the best. To be able to snarl nastier and hit  
  
harder than the competition. He was what he was in order to survive. The had to stay out. When they didn't, they risked their own safety, not to mention his and his city's safety. Stay out. Stay safe. But they never understood.  
  
Gotham's unusual silence was suddenly shattered by sirens. Batman readied his jumpline and swung out into the night, away from the snarling beast that had watched Gotham since before he was born. It was somehow pleasant to sit with a fellow watcher, but now it was time to put away those thoughts. His help was needed, and his cruel, cold mistress sunk her claws a little deeper into his heart. 


	3. Cass

Batgirl swooped down to sit beside one of Gotham's oldest guardians. It was nice to be with someone who didn't expect her to talk. She was here to think. Others might prefer to bounce their ideas off of others, but there were none around who truly understood her...primary language. Everyone else spoke with words, not motions.  
  
Words were strange. People told her clearly what they wanted in body language, yet denied it in speech language. Sometimes she wondered if they truly didn't know their own hearts, or merely wanted to deny what they knew.  
  
Love was so confusing. She knew what they said audibly, but by  
  
motions they all said something quite different. Tim had said he  
  
loved Arianna and Spoiler, but body said he just wanted to blend in, have a girlfriend like everyone else. Dick and Babs were always silently crying "I love you," yet denied it when asked. She saw that Batman and Dinah loved each other, yet did not realize it themselves.  
  
Certainly, there were other, smaller signals she could respond to in other parts of life. Babs didn't like others touching her beanie babies. Her body screamed GET AWAY! every time Cass went near them, even though she audibly said nothing. But to have to ignore so many things the others told her about the deeper things...  
  
It was hard, sometimes, being the only one around who spoke a  
  
different language. To have to quietly ignore so many things she  
  
could fix, because the others would be angry if she ever let out  
  
that she knew their secrets.  
  
She looked to the watcher, to see what he was saying. So many of his kind were truly unreadable, but he had a message for her. He was determined, vigilant, fierce in his protection of those within his gaze. He would make no apology for those who did not like his methods. He was like her, like her clan.  
  
She stroked his shoulder for a moment. There was no response, as she knew there would be. Then she swung away from him, leaving the lone stony visage to look down over that part of the Gotham nightlife. 


	4. Tim

Tim swung down beside the gargoyle he'd seen Dick talking to  
  
earlier. Sometimes his bro's weirdest ideas were the best ones, and he did need someone to talk to. First, though, he had to check the statue for any bugs. His bro had gone further than this on various pranks.  
  
"Sometimes I wonder if what people say about the clan being wild is right." Tim shifted. It felt a little odd talking to a statue, but it was much easier than talking to a person. And he needed someone to talk to.  
  
"I mean, I said that it was just until my shift as Robin was done when I came into this, and I still mean that. Or at least I think I do. It's just...I'm not the same person that came into this game. I was the good little Drake boy, oblivious to so much going on around me. Now I know about all the world-shattering problems out there, and they show no sign of slowing down.  
  
"I mean, I can't unlearn what the Bat taught me. I'll always see the thugs and the gunmen. Gotham is my home. I won't leave her. But can I ever really quit with all the trouble the Bat's training has shown me?  
  
"I'm the thinker of my friends. If I retire, will they die because of it? I don't want anyone to get hurt because of me. They don't know how to think out problems well, and no matter how hard I try to teach them, they just blow me off. Will I have to go on forever to keep them alive, or will they start listening someday?  
  
"Sometimes, when I hear Bruce talk about Gotham or Dick talk about the 'Haven, I just can't ignore their tone. They talk about the cities like men talk about the women they love. The women that trample all over them, but they can't leave. And I think maybe Gotham's sucking me in, too.  
  
"I want to do my shift and be done with it. But can I? Or will I  
  
always be needed. First Bruce needed me, then Young Justice...will it ever end, or will my temporary shift last until I die? I want to be an ordinary guy someday, but can I?  
  
"And even if I do hang up the mask someday, I know I can never  
  
really leave. I can never really get out, because my second family will never lose their masks. Will I be able to quit, or will I feel the need to watch their backs forever? I want to be an ordinary guy. I do. But can I? Or will I keep in the game, no matter how hard?  
  
When I grow too old for the streets, will I become a second Oracle?  
  
"Heh. Guess you can't tell me the answer to that."  
  
With that thought Tim quietly leaned back against the statue to  
  
contemplate the world and his place in it. Soon enough sirens  
  
sounded and he was back into the Gotham night, sucked a little  
  
deeper into his temporary life. 


	5. JP

John Paul lit down on an overhang beside the one who Dick had told him about. John Paul, not Azrael. For one he was in charge in the middle of the night life. Maybe it was due to the momentary lack of sirens or screams.  
  
"Dick told me that you were a good listener."  
  
"..."  
  
"Not one for much conversation, though?"  
  
"..."  
  
"Guess that's pretty obvious when you're talking to stone. Or ought to be. Seems like there's so many Robots and shapeshifters and magic around, that things are rarely as they seem."  
  
"..."  
  
"Well, you've been around here longer than the Bat and have yet to tell anyone's secrets, so I suppose you're the safest ear around."  
  
"...?"  
  
"Dick was right. You are a good listener. I mean, everyone I know is always so busy trying to keeps their homes in one piece, and after the Azbat deal..."  
  
"..."  
  
"I think they're starting to forgive me, or at least I hope they  
  
are."  
  
"..."  
  
"Anyways, I'm rambling. It's so weird being Azrael sometimes. It feels like there's me and him, fighting for control of my head. I mean, is what I was told about the angel true, or do I have a  
  
multiple personality disorder, or is it only the programming?"  
  
"..."  
  
"It's all so confusing, sometimes. Sometimes I think the only way I can deal is to distract myself so that I don't have to think about it all. So I go out as Azrael. But does that just compound the problem? Yet I want to help."  
  
"..."  
  
Maybe I should ask Barbara for advice. I think I might have tried to date her in another life. But I have Tish, and she had Dick, even if she denies it. It's funny. She's the only one who hasn't been on the rooftops with me, but she's like the sister I never had."  
  
John Paul leaned against his listener, taking quiet comfort from him. Then he shifted slightly, taking a closer look, and wondered for the first time if his listener was really just a statue.  
  
Before he could really consider the question, though, sirens sounded in the distance and Azrael took over. 


	6. Dinah

Well, her most recent case was over. Dinah had gotten popcorn and swung by Bab's for a girl's night in, but Babs was too busy coordinating the big JLA sting. Bummer.  
  
Now she was driving around town, trying to figure out who she could go to talk with. Cass was out on patrol and the boys were no good for talking with.  
  
She saw that she was about to drive by that gargoyle Wingster had told her about. The one Babs had taken her first flight off of. Well, Wingster had said that it was a good listener, and she had nothing better to do...  
  
"Hey there! I'm Dinah, otherwise known as that blond bombshell, the Black Canary. Ya'd think people would stop calling me that once they found out it was a dye job, but nooo."  
  
Canary slumped down and used her popcorn to gesture. "Seems like that Bat thinks he owns Gotham. It's all, do this, don't do that, go here, go there." Dinah glanced down and realized that her wild gestures had spilt perfectly good popcorn all over. "Pity Gotham's so dirty that the three second rule can never apply. And it's not like the Bat was Gotham's first, anyways. Alan was here long before him. And the JSA was here for years. So what right does he have to order me around? Grrr.  
  
"Okay, not thinking about Batman. Not thinking about Batman. Though he is kind of cute... NO! Not thinking about Batman, not thinking about Batman...  
  
"Babs. She's a safe subject. I mean, she's like my best friend, but she's really gotta get out and live a little. She's always telling me I've got to be more cautious, but I'm young, vital, and wild. I could never deal with that snail pace she wants. Grrr...  
  
"Hey, I've got a great idea. See that sign down there? This building you're sitting on is having a banquet next week. All I gotta due is slip it to Wingster and he'll get Babs to come dowm here. Eh, maybe it won't be that great, but at least it'll get her out of that tower.  
  
"She and Wingster are so crazy for each other. I mean, I know they both deny it, but it's so obvious. He'll get her to go, and I'll have fun teasing her about it." Dinah looked down. Her popcorn was gone. She crumpled up the bag and got up to go.  
  
"Ya know what? Wingster was right. You are a good listener. Ta." 


	7. Alfred

Alfed stepped out of the window onto the ledge. He looked at his  
  
silent companion.  
  
"So you're the one my boys have been confiding in when I'm away," he said quietly. Then he took a closer look. The ledge and gargoyle were absolutely filthy. There was even popcorn kernels scattered over the ledge. He'd have to have a talk with his boys later about their eating habits. None of them could stand up to the original Bat Glare.  
  
He knew something like this would be the case...was that grease marks from the popcorn butter? He hadn't realized that it would be this bad, though. He quickly glanced down to make sure he was not being watched. The coast was clear.  
  
Alfred got out his supplies and set to work cleaning the gargoyle. After a few minutes he realized that conversation might make the time go by faster.  
  
"You know, I do try to do my best by the boys, but they don't always make it easy. I worry just as much as the rest of them, but I can't ever show it. They always show confidence to their teams, no matter what. I wonder if they ever realize that I'm doing that for them? Do they know how scared I am that they won't come back one night?"  
  
"The worst time is when they come home hurt. They always just want to get patched up and head right back out, no matter how bad the damage. Do you know I've lost count of how many times I've drugged Master Bruce's food to keep him home? I do believe he'd head out in a full body cast if I let him."  
  
"He keeps dancing around Dinah and Selina. At times I wonder if he'll ever figure out what he wants? I've known since he was a boy he'd never go for one of those society ladies. He needs someone who can keep up with him, day and night."  
  
Like father, like son I suppose. I do love Leslie, but the time's never been right to ask..."  
  
"Moving on. It seems the third generation has the same problem. I think everyone but Master Dick and Miss Barbara realize that those two will be getting married one day."  
  
"I do hope that Master Timothy will be different. For a time, I thought that he would be able to escape the night life and just 'do his shift,' but I see it's too late for that now."  
  
"Miss Barbara seems to finally be coming out of her shell. It seems like perhaps she and Master Dick are finally realizing that they belong together. I do hope that there will be wedding bells in their near future. They've danced around each other for long enough."  
  
"I just don't know how to get through to them sometimes. They have harder heads that you."  
  
Alfred lapsed into silent thought as he finished cleaning the gargoyle. He wouldn't have his boys sitting on a dirty haven. A few minutes later, he was gone, as unseen as any of his boys. 


	8. Babs

Barbara silently sighed to herself. Somehow Dick had found out about this Midnight Ball he wanted to take her to. She'd made him beg and plead before she said yes. She had planned on going the whole time, but he was so cute when he begged and pleaded. Then he had to leave her alone at the party.  
  
Babs wheeled out of the ballroom and into a side room. She didn't want to be around anyone right now. She looked out the window and saw an old friend. Not the one she had hoped was returning, but it was so long since she'd even seen this old friend.  
  
She opened the window and used the frame to pull herself out the window to sit on the platform with him.  
  
"It's been a long time. You know, I still remember the first time I flew through the night. I remember the boost you gave me. I never really came back after that, but now here I am, now that I've had my wings clipped.  
  
"You remember the boy there with me, Robin? Well, he's Nightwing now, and he still likes me. He wants to be with me, but I know he should be free to fly. But he keeps flying back to me. Does that mean it's ok to get close to him?  
  
"It seemed like we're getting closer again. I've started to think about letting things go to the next level. I want to let him fly free, but he keeps coming back to me. Maybe, just maybe he can be happy with me, even if I can't join him on the rooftops. At least I'm in his ear. Mainly because he keeps calling me for no apparent reason while on patrol.  
  
"I'd planned on telling him I was finally ready to get serious tonight, but he had to go. A Titans mission had come up and he had to leave the party. I had tried to leave as well, but somehow he had managed to make me promise to stay and try to enjoy myself. I officially want to strangle him.  
  
"This guy called Prometheus offered to give me my legs back if I helped him kill the League a while ago. Of course I refused, but I'm still trying to find and hack his systems. Maybe someday I'll get through, find what I need to find, and have the chance to fly with Dick again.  
  
"I mean, I love being Oracle, and I'd never give it up, but sometimes it would just be wonderful to be able to take to the rooftops again. Not a full-time deal, but just every once in a while.  
  
"Sometimes I still feel like I'm all alone, though. The others don't know how much effort it takes for me to even clean the mirrors now. But then again, you wouldn't really know about what that's like. Statues can't feel such things.  
  
She sat in silence for a moment before going in and returning to the party.  
  
She never noticed how a single tear fell from the stone at the end of her talk. After all, it was just a statue. Wasn't it?  
  
_______________________________________________________________  
  
Questions? Comments? Anyone out there? Sorry it took so long. I was waiting for inspiration to strike, but it didn't. So I just sat down to write this anyways and hope it turned out ok.  
  
I'll get a sequel out eventually. Reviews do speed the process. 


End file.
